Warning: Health Hazzard
by Skitts
Summary: And then Selphie and Yuffie dropped the bombshell: this was Kairi's party. Kairi, the girl Sora had had a crush on ever since year two. [SoKai]
1. Chapter 1

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter One_

* * *

Sora wasn't a party person. His name was known throughout the school and every once in a while students waved at him on their way from Geography to Maths. He smiled constantly and everybody else smiled back, paying little heed to Sora. Happy Sora.

People like that aren't really renowned for their love of partying and, truth be told, Sora wasn't really into all that. Dancing and drinking and loud music just wasn't his thing. He'd much rather be sat at home on the sofa with a packet of salt & vinegar chips watching some stupid cartoon on TV.

But now here he was, in what he considered to be 'party' clothes – a normal top and pair of pants, but his newest pair of pants that had several unneeded zippers and the like – on the threshold of Kairi's house.

Oh yes, Kairi's house.

I'm sure the name Kairi means very little to you, but to Sora the name meant everything. Not to sound corny, but the name 'Kairi' to Sora meant stars and suns and sparkly things. But then again, if anybody said Kairi's name in the hallowed white halls of Oblivion High it was always accompanied with tones of wonder and awe. For Kairi was ever-pretty and ever-popular, a beautiful red-head with an upturned nose and a truly _delish_ sense of make-up.

Most people tried to blend in with the crowd in school for fear of being ridiculed but Kairi was like a flashing neon sign that said 'LOOK AT ME'. She wore whatever the hell she wanted, and it all somehow looked brilliant on her. Too-short denim skirts and pink-and-black striped socks that went up to her knees. Ribbons scattered about her hair, arm-warmers pulled up over her tanned skin, tight white tops with cute slogans adorned with hearts.

The real question was, why had somebody as popular as Kairi invited Sora and his misfit friends (such misfit friends included Selphie and Yuffie) over to her house for a party? And why had Sora bothered to turn up in the first place?

Well, the threesome got invitations due to gossip, news of this party passed down from one person to the next. Kairi said invite whoever you wanted, so Tifa invited Aerith, Aerith invited Squall, Squall invited Yuffie, Yuffie invited Sora. And that was how it went.

There were now a good fifty plus extra people coming over to the girl's house, and it was just as well she lived in what could only be described as a mansion. If it were any smaller it would burst at seams due to the excessive amount of partying teenagers.

Sora hadn't wanted to go. He'd dug his heels into the dirt, shot a stubborn look at Yuffie and Selphie who'd been trying to drag him out of the house to go to the party with them, and refused point-blank to take part in any social interaction or activities. Sora wasn't a social leper, per say, but he hated being in small confined places with lots of people, half of them he was sure he wouldn't know. They were such horrible environments and they made him nervous, skittish, on edge. Not sure what to do or what to say.

And then Yuffie and Selphie had dropped the bombshell – this was _Kairi's_ party. Kairi, the Queen Bee. Kairi, the devoted Abercrombie and Fitch wearer. Kairi, the girl who'd been Sora's Chem partner for half a year. Kairi, the girl Sora had had a crush on ever since year two.

Oh yeah, they'd announced it ever so casually. _That Kairi_.

Not that there were any other Kairis at the school.

And so here Sora was, his hands clenched into fists at his sides, sweating. He took deep calming breaths as if he were about to be thrown into a tank of killer eels with row up row of sharp, pointed teeth, telling himself and over again that he was sweating because it was in the middle of June and it was _hot_. Not because he worried, or nervous, or anxious. And that twisted feeling in his stomach? Yeah, that was only the bean curry he'd eaten last night – _nothing to worry about at all._

_Sora, you are a __liar_, his brain scorned. _Why are you even going to the party anyway? It's not like you'll _see_ miss perfect amongst all her devoted servants? How many kids do you think there are here? Hundred? Two hundred? You really think she'll pay attention to _you? _Go back to your chips and TV or something – they understand you._

"I hate you…" muttered Sora, watching as a few kids turned to look at him sceptically before moving back a few steps. They obviously wanted nothing to do with weird-smelling sweaty kid who spoke to himself.

"Come on, Sora!" cried Selphie in her chipper voice. Although Sora guessed it could have been Yuffie – they both spoke in annoyingly high-pitched tones that could send a dog of more sensitive hearing running away howling with its tail between its legs.

"No turning back now!" Yuffie nodded enthusiastically. Her voice snapped like a rubber band, bouncy and carefree as if she hadn't just noticed the group of stoned teenagers staggering around by the mailbox, projectile vomiting their insides over the prettily-painted little object. They looked like kids in Sora's class, maybe Marluxia and Demyx?

"Oh God… I'm so _stupid_… I don't fit in, I want _out_…" Unfortunately, Selphie and Yuffie had taken both his arms in their own so he couldn't really move. And, even if they hadn't, he still wouldn't have been able to run away. He was paralysed with fear, quaking from top to toe, legs seeming to buckle underneath his immense weight.

"That's the spirit!" Selphie smiled, trying to prop him up like a too-tall sunflower against a gardening pole in case he keeled over then and there on the front doorstep. That would make a great first impression… Er, not. Yuffie smiled and adjusted Sora so he was easier to carry, and together they dragged him into the bowels of the house, obviously realising the poor boy was so flabbergasted he couldn't use his own two legs.

Sora hadn't seen Kairi and already he'd turned into a nervous quivering jelly-like blob of nerves.

This was going to go great. Just _great_.

* * *

**a.n:** I think this story's going to be pretty short… Was written because I think SoKai needs more luff, although it doesn't really have a proper plot at the moment. I think you're looking at about six or seven short chapters of sorakairi fluff…

**Xx skitts xX**


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter Two_

* * *

Sora blinked rapidly, attempting to fight off the vicious white spots that were running rampant across his vision.

This mad onslaught against his eyesight had started roughly 0.43 mili-seconds after he'd placed one over-sized butter-yellow shoe on the threshold of Kairi's house.

It was a quite hard to take it all it all in at once – the flashing lights, gyrating bodies, loud music and screaming teens mixed together created a very heavy atmosphere that just screamed 'PARTY!'.

The poor boy winced as if the current situation was actually causing him pain and, to be quite honest, it was. He doubted his ears would ever stop ringing and, no matter how many times he blinked, he couldn't get rid of the blurry white spots. They were still there even when he shut his eyes, abstinent. It looked as if this faulty vision wasn't the only price to pay, however – it was all accompanied with a headache and a bunch full'a nerves that were slowly melting his confidence and reducing his advanced skeletal structure into paste.

His bladder was faring little better, and suddenly the idea of finding a fully-functional toilet became rather appealing. Traversing the vast expanse of Kairi's house was a better alternative to standing like a sponge in the doorway, gaping all fish-like at the people enjoying themselves, not daring to venture off into the crowds and have fun.

After all, his skittish behaviour was only succeeding in irking Yuffie, Selphie and several other people who wanted to use to door.

Sure, Selphie was smiling kindly and Yuffie was giving him words of encouragement, attempting to boost his shattered ego (it was beyond saving, really). But Sora couldn't help but notice Selphie's large green eyes were locked almost longingly onto a very nice back, and this very nice back belonged to a very nice boy – Roxas, to be exact, flirting with a pretty girl. Yuffie's foot was also tapping impatiently, a sure sign she wanted to break free from Sora's company and join the dancing crowds. She was trying to look bored and uninterested, for Sora's sake, but that one traitorous little body-part wouldn't stay still, a sure sign that if Sora vamoosed then she would be away from that corner and onto that dance floor in a flash.

"I love this song…" muttered Yuffie in a dejected sort of voice, acting as if Sora was an inconvenience, a handicap, like a broken leg. She wanted to go off and enjoy herself, but she couldn't leave her hopeless friend all on his ownsies, lost in the big bad world of teenage America.

"I, er, it's alright, you guys…" Sora muttered hastily, staring down at his shoes and wishing he had enough gall to go join in the fun. How would he ever impress Kairi if he didn't venture out beyond his little corner, drowning in sorrow and self-pity? Only the geeks got stuck in the corners at wild parties, at least, according to all Selphie's romance books. The beautiful heroines never fell for the sad gits stood by themselves examining their shoes, never_never__**never**_. No, it would be much better to go off and explore upstairs, the boy decided. That way nobody would see him stood alone like some pathetic, anti-social reject, a blush spreading across his face wider than the Amazon.

"You sure? You don't need us to go with you and hold your hand?" asked Selphie a little snippily. She didn't mean to tack that last hurtful little comment onto the end of her question, and she most certainly didn't mean to say it in such a despairing, exasperated voice. Buuutttt oh how she adored that blond-haired, blue-eyed boy. That blond-haired, blue-eyed boy who was flirting with some other girl, her powerless to stop it!

"Nah. I think I'll go to the toilet, okay? You guys can go do whatever you want to do. I'll be fine." Sora nodded his head viciously in accompaniment to his words, attempting to convince them (as well as himself) that he _would_ be fine. And, if he found the party atmosphere too much, he could always leave.

And never tell Kairi how he felt about her…

_Sigh._

Selphie and Yuffie immediately vanished mere seconds after the words left Sora's lips, melting almost instantly into the crowd. _They fit in_. They had managed to find their 'place' in the social food chain.

The only place Sora seemed suited for was in the toilet, locked away from humanity with his (tomato-coloured) head in his hands, wishing he could've thought of something clever and witty to say while he still had the chance.

* * *

Sora had always known Kairi's parents were rich (the girl wore a different outfit to school almost every _day_, complete with pretty jewellery and muti-coloured plastic headbands and the like). But, after a few minutes of looking around her plush house, Sora had to re-evaluate his previous assumption. Kairi's parents were not rich.

They were _very _rich.

He was actually enjoying himself, looking at all the pictures on the walls and examining the prettily patterned carpets like a visitor to an art gallery. The corridors seemed to stretch on for an eternity and a forever, the stairs winding up higher than the thirteenth and final floor of Oblivion High.

Sora had to pause to wonder why an everly-amazing, socially-adept, studiously-smart girl like Kairi would even go to such a school like Oblivion High. Sure, it was a _good_ school, but it wasn't exactly the best. It didn't achieve the best results; it didn't turn out the best kids. So why would somebody like Kairi, who obviously came from a very rich background, go to a state school? Why not a private one?

The boy pushed this thought from his mind, not really wanting to deal with 'whys' and 'whats' and 'hows'. He'd had enough of those back downstairs (down several flights of stairs, actually).

Up here he couldn't hear the loud music or see the partying people, and he didn't have to worry about conversations and reputations. He just wanted to be there and walk around a bit, soak in Kairi's home life, see what she woke up to every morning. It was _nice_, in a slightly stalker-ish way.

The whole house was nice, and it smelt of raspberries and cotton-candy, a sharp contrast to Sora's home, with was permanently plagued by the scent of old socks and pizza, much to Aerith's chagrin.

It was strange, but the spiky-haired brunet felt much closer to Kairi up there, surrounded by all her furniture and family pictures in gilt frames, set on oak tables. It just seemed to fit the girl's bubbly personality more, far more than the raving party downstairs. It was relaxing to look at all the pictures of a little toddler-ish Kairi, usually shown in each photo with a little blonde girl about her age. Maybe a childhood best friend? They did look cute together, with their chubby faces and bright eyes, sometimes posing for the camera with fingers arranged in traditional 'peace' signs. Kairi was slightly cross-eyed on some of them, making Sora laugh.

The homely environment soothed Sora, made him feel closer to the girl than he'd ever felt before. It unclenched the tightness in his bladder to a certain degree, dissolved the ugly white spots and cleared up his head. He was feeling so truly peaceful he barely noticed the blonde girl walking along behind him.

He turned around at exactly the right moment to catch a flash of white and an eyeful of blonde hair, disappearing into one of the rooms on the landing.

Sora stared after her for a few short seconds, blinking rapidly.

She was just a girl from the party looking for the toilet, that was all…

* * *

**a.n:** Second chapter up, a few more to go xD. This chapter is dedicated to **Lamatikah**, for helping me find my luff for SoKai again .

**Xx skitts xX**


	3. Chapter 3

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter Three_

* * *

"Kai-_riiiiiiiii_!" hollered Olette, her voice cutting across the background babble of a party in full-swing. The girl may have seemed sweet and innocent in her simple orange top and beige cargo pants, but she had a mouth on her the size of Pluto and never hesitated to use it if need be. She was so loud it was probably possible to hear her _from_ Pluto, as well. Several of the teens stood by her were already massaging their ears and schlepping off into the crowds, trying desperately to get away from the crazy girl with the brown eyes who was talking in a pitch that could shatter glass. Painful was the only way to describe it.

"_What?!_" the popular red-head called out from the other side of the room, standing on the tips of her Converse in a desperate attempt to peer over the heads that obscured her vision. When God was handing out the tallness genes, the petite (polite was of saying 'short') girl had obviously been the last in line. So, to make up for her lack of height, God decided to give her gargantuan feet.

Luck was a bitch and life wasn't fair.

"There's somebody at the **dooorrrrr**!" Olette screeched, gesturing wildly towards said door, which was open, complete with crazy, Marilyn Manson goth-type kid leant against it, proving Olette's point. There was indeed 'somebody at the door'. A somebody with a lot of piercings, studded up both ears and on the top lip, black clothing covering almost every inch of his skin, eyes framed with sooty-black kohl, lashes emphasised with mascara. He was also carrying a bouquet of blood-red roses, which was _highly_ suspect – in Olette's opinion, anyway.

Who did this kid think he was, some emo/goth type version of Romeo? And what did he want with _Kairi_? Did he think Kairi was his preppy/popular Juliet? (Now that would make a _great_ movie). Did the girl have some secret lover from that all-boy's school opposite Oblivion High?

It was called Hollow Bastion High; if Olette remembered rightly, home of the male goths and punks and emos. She remembered that mainly because her brother, Roxas, had seriously considered going there, and Olette had protested because she didn't want her lickle brother swanning off to some all-boy's school run by a former male model. Mainly because she wouldn't be able to protect (or, to be more accurate, _annoy_) him.

"Who is it?!" Kairi shouted back, marvelling at the fact that they were actually managing to have a semi-sensical conversation over a (loud) Linkin Park track and a roomful of dancing/shrieking/shouting kids.

"Riku," the weird goth kid said in a monotone mumble, after a little prompting from Olette (she gave him a funny look that clearly read 'so, um, who the hell _are you_, exactly?).

"Riku!" Olette repeated (nay, shouted), sniggering at the name. It sounded a lot like Miss. Blonde-&-Preppy-&-High-On-Sugar-&-On-The-Blitz-Team Rikku in her year.

Kairi, on the other hand, seemed to find nothing funny about this. The boy or the name. On the contrary, she mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'shit' and stormed away from the punch table in the general direction of the door, a face like thunder with fists clenched at her sides.

Many-a teenager jumped out of her way as she rampaged across the room in a mission for blood, eventually coming face-to-face with the Marilyn-Manson goth-type kid with the silver hair and the piercings and the roses.

"Kairi, would you ta-" the boy started, thrusting the very pinky-redy-rosey bundle at her. He never got to finish his sentence, however, and had to pull the roses back to his chest pretty sharpish for fear Kairi would take them and ram them up his backside.

Oh, woe is a pissed off Kairi.

"You _stupid_ little _boy_," hissed the girl, glaring daggers, knives, and multiple other pointy objects at the piercing-ridden specimen before her. Her hands were thrust on her hips, her eyes narrowed, hair flipped behind her shoulders – the ultimate image of a 'pissed off woman'. "How _dare you come here_…"

She was shaking with rage – literally _shaking_, and now her face was as red as the bundle of posies Riku held protectively to his chest. Olette _and_ Riku took a few steps back in alarm, obviously worried that Kairi had turned into a ticking time bomb and any bad move would make her explode.

"You… You've caused _enough_ damage! I never want to see your ugly face again!" cried Kairi, obviously pondering the pros and cons of shoving a fist in Riku's 'ugly face'. Or maybe that lovely array of roses…? Wouldn't he look nice with a face full of thorns…?

"But _Kairi_, I thought you'd understand! Please, take the flowers…"

"I don't want your fucking flowers _or_ you're fucking excuses. This conversation is over."

"But _Kai-"_

"**OVER**."

Olette guessed that the '**OVER**' signified a definite end to the conversation, and by the look on her friend's face it was about time to slam the door into Riku's face. Which she did, with little hesitation – she had a feeling if she didn't comply to the girl's silent wishes she'd end up minus her head.

She felt a bit shocked at Kairi's outburst – the poor boy hadn't done anything _wrong_, but it wasn't like Kairi to get mad over stupid things. No, scratch that, it wasn't like Kairi to get mad at all.

So why…?

"Kai, I'm sorry about bothering you. If I'd've known you didn't want to talk to him I wouldn't've opened the door, but he said he really had to talk to y-"

"I know," sighed the girl, waving one hand in the air lightly in the hopes that Olette would get the message and stop pestering her. "I know I was a bit of a bitch, but if you knew what'd happened earlier you'd see why I acted like that."

"So, um… Will you tell me? What happened between you and him before, I mean?"

"No," Kairi replied tartly, looking around the room desperately for somebody she could scoot off with. She wasn't in the mood to answer questions, especially not ones concerning Riku. Riku was a touchy subject, and what Olette didn't know wouldn't hurt her…

It seemed the best way to inject any normality into the current situation would be to swan off with some guy she barely knew, because people you don't know very well are less likely to ask questions, thus she keep their conversation away from rocky subjects like Riku and onto more neutral things, like the weather.

The weird kid who sat next to her in Chemistry and mixed acids and bases whilst she chatted with Rikku and Olette seemed like a _perfect_ nobody to spend some time with.

* * *

Selphie and Yuffie were fast workers, Sora'd give them that.

He'd only be away for all of ten minutes, and when he'd finally returned he couldn't find them anywhere. They'd got their guys and ran off into the dark of the night, leaving him stranded and alone, like a pathetic puppy at a homeless shelter nobody wanted.

He felt like Yuffie and Selphie had kicked him in the stomach – it was a horrible feeling, this 'betrayal'. He knew the girls had the attention spans of particularly thick moogles, and should've known it was ludicrous to expect either of them to stick around whilst he went and snooped about Kairi's house like the obsessive stalker he was.

But still…

It would've been nice if they'd told him they planned to leave with boys by their sides five minutes after they'd even arrived.

The boy was tired from the ten-minute long look around Kairi's house, and then the ten minutes tacked onto to that searching (in vain) for Selphie and Yuffie. All he wanted to do was sit on the stair step and ferment in his sorrows, because _lamenting_ was so old-fashioned and angsty. And Sora wasn't an angster, Sora was merely a very dejected little boy who'd been stranded in enemy territory, surrounded by strangers on all sides without his two favourites girlfriends to cling onto like rafts in a storm.

In fact, there was probably no point being at the party at all. He could be at home, wearing a Sora-shaped rut into the cushions of his lubberly sofa with a packet of kettle chips in one hand and a remote in the other.

He didn't need to solve the mystery of the blonde-haired girl he'd seen upstairs – she was most likely a party guest who'd gotten lost. So, that was one thing sorted. Now the only other thing that needed rectifying was his presence at the party…

It wasn't like he'd actually _see_ Kairi, anyway – not amongst all the people.

He got up; all set to gallivant off to the door and out into the night, when a heavily manicured hand stopped him by landing on his shoulder. The boy was forced back down onto the steps in a half-sitting, half-standing position, craning his head up to sneak a peek at what had ever-so-rudely interrupted his departure.

And then he blinked, legs going slack, collapsing in a puddle of hormones and hairgel.

"Wanna dance?" asked Kairi sweetly.

* * *

**a.n:** Riku has a part in this, as does the unidentified blonde girl. And there is a twist in this story – oh yes, there is a twist. All twistiness coming up in the next coupl'a chaptoids xP.

**Xx skitts xX**


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter Four_

* * *

The music was loud and thumping, the crowds were loud and booming, Kairi was smiling her reassuring smile at Sora with her rose-petal pink lips and squeezing his hand as she dragged him up onto the unofficial 'dance floor', clicking her free fingers that weren't wrapped around her captive's wrist.

Of course, Sora wasn't really a captive – he was weaving throughout the random crowds of people willingly – but his eyes were darting about a bit, as if trying to plan an escape route if worst came to the worst and he had to do a Cinderella. Fleeing for turning into a pumpkin and all that lark. Maybe leaving a glass slipper artfully left on the beige, drink-splattered carpet?

"Don't look so _worried_," grinned Kairi, her strawberry shampoo-like smell multiplying ten fold as she pulled Sora towards her. "It's only _dancing_. Nobody's watching you."

Sora blushed as the loud, thumping'n'jumping 'RAWR'-like song faded to be replaced with a slow, soft track, a woman signing to a backdrop of pianos of bells.

He was with (the one-and-only) Kairi.

Kairi, Ms. Pretty & Popular.

Of **course** people were staring, whispering through cupped hands placed at ears, shooting envious/amused looks at the 'happy couple'. Wondering what Kairi was doing with Sora, somebody who was fathoms below her in the social pecking order.

Sora was known throughout the school – he was a happy, cheery, smiley sort of kid who made people feel happy as he passed them in the corridor. But he was also one of the kids whom nobody knew the name of, and when he was brought up in conversations he was always 'the sweet, clumsy kid – bit of an idiot… Hangs around with Yuffie and Selphie all the time…'.

There was nothing _wrong_ with him, per say, and was no real reason why somebody like Kairi couldn't slow dance with somebody like Sora.

But it was a bit odd, all the same.

It just wasn't **done**.

"Heh… Nobody's watching… _Riiiiiight_," Sora muttered in a sarcastic sort of way. He wasn't trying to sound rude, but he couldn't help but feel uncomfortable at the curious looks that were searing through the material of his shirt. Well, maybe they were looking at that very interesting fly on the wall to the right of him, but Sora doubted that, somehow.

"They're just nosy gits," Kairi said in an offhanded way, putting Sora's hands on her hips. "Now you just _sway_, okay? Follow my lead'n all."

Sora nodded, mind smooshy, unable to do anything but comply with the girl's wishes. He knew eyebrows were being raised and giggles were being smothered but really… Why did he _care _so much?

Um, because the news would spread all around school next Monday, probably.

Not that they'd get his name right in any of the retellings, of course.

"So, er, why are you dancing with me anyway?"

A blunt question, but it had to be asked.

"Riku. He's a bastard."

"Who's R-"

"_Not_ talking about him. Shut up and sway."

Sora sighed, and nodded.

So it wasn't his good looks and charm that had drawn her to him.

* * *

Riku had been stood outside the house for about twenty minutes, pondering his next move, roses in hand and a scowl on his face.

He could try to sneak again, hope some random kid he didn't know would answer the door and then try to pass himself off as a party guest, but he _knew_ Kairi. Ms. Bitchy's Riku radar would pick up his scent from fifty miles away, and then she'd hunt him down like a dog. From then on it would only take a small push to knock him from the front door to the middle of the road, thus creating emo!like road-kill. Oh, what joy.

There was really only one way he could infiltrate the she-devil's home base, and that way involved a lot of shimmying up drainpipes with bunches of roses clenched in-between the teeth, then slipping into an open window.

It was stupid, but you all know the saying: people do crazy things when they're in love.

And Riku _was_ in love, but it was sort of hard to tell that to his object of unsurpassed adoration when a large brick wall separated them.

And so, that was what he must do: scale up the side of the building, break into the nearest open window, track down his beautiful angel and pour his heart out to her.

Simple as that.

And, if worst came to worst, he'd _only_ be arrested for attempted trespassing and spend all night in a cell until his mother came along with the bail (oh, the same!).

Or he'd fall off the windowsill and break his arm in five different places.

Or he'd actually get in, to find her with another guy.

Or he'd find her minus a guy, plus a pair of brass knuckles, a flamethrower, a shotgun, a T-Shirt covered in ammo and a 'die BITCH' expression on her face.

Yeah, but apart from those minor inconveniences, it'd be pretty easy, right?

Love'll prevail through thick and thin and all that shit…

So the only thing that stood in-between Riku and an early grave was the POWAH OF LURVE and a bundle of beaten-up roses?

God, he was **sooo** screwed.

* * *

Sora's head hurt a lot – it probably had something to do with the loud thumping music that was playing, the coupl'a cans of red bull he'd consumed and the fact Kairi was dancing next to him.

Kairi. Next. To. Him.

Looking amazingly gorgeous (but then again, she _was_ Kairi) with her crimson hair bouncing about her shoulders in volum'd waves, eyes sparkling, twisting and turning, stepping and sliding amongst the crowds.

Sora, on the other hand, had more than made up for Kairi's performance – he was stumbling and slipping and loosing his footing for every complicated dance move his partner pulled, feeling like a constipated duck in a blue hat compared to her.

"Don't you love this band?!" shouted Kairi, feeling a tad bit sorry for Sora. She had DDR, and practised almost all the time. She wasn't a 'natural' dancer, she'd just been working at it for a long time. She had an unfair advantage, really.

"Um, yeah! They're… er… Brilliant!" screamed Sora, not having any idea who the singers (more like 'shouters') were. He couldn't even recognise the lyrics, not that he was focusing on them at all. Or the beat – it was painfully obvious by the way he kicked at everybody, completely out of time.

"Hey! Watch where you're going!"

Indignant squeals and pounding music morphed into a background buzz, coloured lights blurred into each other, Sora's movements became wilder and only prompted more annoyed expressions and muttered insults.

Was it possible to get drunk off energiser drink?

Or maybe it was just short circuiting his brain and sending wave upon wave of stupidity to it. Complete with pitchforks and pointy objects. Or maybe people were just really, really idiotic/malicious, and were getting in his way on purpose – I mean, _c'mon_, Sora **swore** that girl's leg hadn't been there before.

And then, with much screaming and pin-wheeling of arms, the boy crashed into the ground, his last view of earth a worried face courtesy of Kairi and an eyeful of black-and-pink, skull-studded pair of converse.

He was so very graceful.

Fell like a ton of bricks, you know.

* * *

**a.n:** So Riku has a devious plot to break into Kairi's house, and Sora has just passed out in the middle of the dance floor. Disaster will shortly follow .

**Xx skitts xX**


	5. Chapter 5

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter Five_

* * *

"Please, please, please, please, **please**!" begged Kairi, ready to go down on all fours and _grovel_.

Kairi wasn't the sort of girl who did things like that – let the common people hunker down on the unhygienic floor like dogs. She was far too sophisticated to do anything as desperate and needy, but right now she was the embodiment of frazzled nerves and bitten nails.

She'd only just managed to drag the unconscious Sora up the many flights of stairs in her house, cursing and fretting and worrying all the while. She hadn't wanted him to pass out, and she wasn't exactly a girl with a build suitable for such a task. Sure, she was healthy – nobody could say she was anorexic, unlike a lot of other stupid girls who aspired to be like Kairi and ate nothing but lettuce leaves all day – and could throw the discus further than all the girls and most the boys in P.E.

But she was still Miss. Skinny-no-muscles, and she never snacked in between meals. Ever. So it was obvious who had the upper hand here, in this mad game of tug-a-war. Kairi vs. Sora. Kairi, attempting to haul a lazy boy who lived on a strict diet of potato chips up five flights of stairs.

People had offered to help her carry him, but she had spun them some yarn about him being her burden. That wasn't the real reason, obviously – Kairi would've loved some help in the form of an older kid who played soccer and had muscles the size of Europe.

She just couldn't have people exploring the house – she was too afraid that they might discover her biggest secret. Her biggest secret, that was stood right in front of her refusing point-blank to let Sora crash in her room until he recovered.

"Pleeaasseee?"

"No, Kai. This is my room. Got it? **My****room**. As in: you keep out. You AND your weird, freaky, preppy-like friends!"

"But he's not even my _friend_, per say…" A lame argument, to be sure. Friendship had nothing to do with that.

"Then I don't want your random stalkers in my room either! I've had enough of fucking stalkers, thank you very much."

"You're just all beaten out of shape because _Riku-_"

It was here that Kairi's side of the conversation abruptly ended, her 'loving' sister reaching forwards and pinching her lips together. All sound was halted, the two girls shooting each other pointed looks that clearly read 'DEATH'. Gee, maybe the family had ties to the Grim Reaper or something… Kairi'd have to ask her where she put her scythe.

"Look here, Kai." Her voice was dangerously low, relinquishing grip on her sister's mouth, the fish-lips disappearing. "Don't you _dare_ bring **him** into the conversation! He has nothing to do with this! I'm just not one-hundred percent happy with the idea of nursing one of your party guests! I thought you didn't want your friends knowing I even _existed_. Go dump him in your room."

Kairi growled, a little bit irked that her sister was being so offhanded about the whole Sora thing, acting like he was a pizza that simply needed to be shipped from room to room.

"You _know_ he can't stay in my room! It's being redecorated!"

"You can leave him amongst the bricks and bits of wood, right? If he's not your friend then you don't need to care about how comfy he is."

"But I can't just… I can't… I won't! That's a horrible thing to do to somebody who was knocked unconscious! Can't he stay with _you_, Nammy? _Pleeeaaasseee_? You could go and hide somewhere when he wakes up and then he'll never know."

"Great. I'm going to be evicted out of my own house to make room for your _boyfriend_. This is my bedroom, remember? NOT a hotel!"

Pink spots flared up on Kairi's cheeks, and she choked on her next string of 'please, please, _pretty please'_es. "He… Sora… I mean… He's NOT my BOYFRIEND!" she cried indignantly, placing her hands on her hips and attempted to look cool, confident, Kairi-ish. The effect was ruined somewhat by the blush still spread across her face.

"Awww. Kairi has a crush on someone. How sweet."

"I'm not joking, Nam, I'm being serious! I need some place to let him rest! I can't drop him outside by the main road like he's some hobo!"

"I could."

"Yeah, but you're _evil_ and I'm me," Kairi replied, staring at her sister pleadingly with large eyes, similar to the ones puppies wear on the RSPCA adverts that try to cajole a few dollars out of you. "Please, Nam? _Please_."

"Get on your hands and knees and **beg** and then maybe I'll consider it," Naminé replied with a grin that revealed her sharp little teeth, pink-n'-black arm-warmer'd hands crossed over her skull-splattered top.

Little Miss Goth-thing and Little Miss Preppy-thing – the ultimate showdown.

* * *

"Alright, you want the grand tour?" asked Naminé sweetly, dragging the still unconscious Sora into the dark depths of her bedroom. And it truly _was_ dark – the walls were painted black, posters featuring bands such as 'Trivium' and 'Sum 41' tacked loosely to the walls. There was an old computer kicked into the corner, felt-pen messages scrawled around the screen, spike-studded jewellery sat on the black bookshelves completely devoid of reading material, a pair of black boots could be seen, kicked under the black-'n-red, grim-reaper embossed bed. The only thing about the room that seemed slightly normal and teenage girl-ish was the mattress on the floor and the small pile of magazines and CDs next to it. Those were the things Kairi had managed to salvage from her room before the nice builder-people knocked a hole through the wall and pulled down the baby-blue wallpaper, and Naminé treated them with distain.

"Well, this is my room," she said, pivoting around on her black goth-boots, a full 360. "Don't you dare touch nothin'. And that shit-" here Naminé pointed at Kairi's junk that was lying neatly on the floor, "-is Kai-Kais. Feel free to touch it all you like. Although I don't think you will… You seem pretty unconscious at the moment."

The girl snickered, before dragging the body onto Kairi's mattress. "Alright, you stay there. I'm going to go get a drink. God, can you _believe_ it? Kairi told me I can't got downstairs in my own fuckin' house 'cause some of those preppy shits down there might see me. God, she's so ashamed to be related to me. But, then again… I'm ashamed to be related to her. It balances out. Yippee," she muttered sarcastically, leaving the room. "I'll climb out the bathroom window and slide down the freakin' roof. Nobody'll see me then."

The girl slammed the door behind her, leaving Sora in the middle of her goth-like room, still peacefully unconscious, without a clue as to where he was.

* * *

Riku cursed, and then reminded himself not to open his mouth – the boquet of roses stuck in there would only fall out, or lodge itself into his tongue if he moved too suddenly.

It was hard work, scrambling up the drainpipe. And painful – he'd bumped his knees and cut his hands a fair bit. And well, if you add a boquet of thorn-covered roses into that equation, then you've just created a new death sport.

Never mind glass eating, skateboarding off a roof or driving a motorbike over fifteen vans – shimmying up drainpipes with pointy objects in the mouth was all the rage!

The metallic taste of blood filled Riku's mouth, as he continued his wild, upwards scramble.

Perhaps, if he'd been paying more attention, he would've noticed the object of his adoration sliding down the roof a few feet away, but as it was he was far too busy trying not to fall off the building. Which he had done – thrice, now.

Finally, he brought his hand up and hit Naminé's bedroom windowsill. He hauled himself up, feeling victorious, and was all set to let himself in, hand his lady love the roses and recite a ballad about how much he loved her, when he stopped.

He stared.

He blinked.

He gasped.

There was another guy in Naminé's room.

There was a random kid in his girlfriend's bedroom.

* * *

Naminé's black goth-boots hit the ground, and she pivoted on the spot to face her silver-haired stalker, letting himself into her room.

"Now there's something you don't see everyday."

She shrugged, and pulled a handful of munny from one of the (many) pockets on her chain-and-belt covered pants. She could hear a strawberry milkshake calling her name all the way from the corner shop down the road.

* * *

**a.n:** And much is revealed. The mystery of the blonde girl Sora saw is cleared up, Kairi has a secret sister and Riku is a crazy stalker who is obsessed with her.

**Xx skitts xX**


	6. Chapter 6

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter Six_

* * *

Kairi was dancing, but she was doing so with a thick air of unease surrounding her. Occasionally her feet would go where they weren't wanted, and her arms would flail about a little too wildly to passed off as coordinated movement.

Her stumblings and bumblings across the teen-covered dance-floor seemed to be some kind of omen. A bit like the piercing rays from a lighthouse carving it's way through the fog – a warning of danger ahead.

Maybe this sudden burst of klutziness courtesy our ever lovely Miss Kairi was a symbol? After all, it was not like Lady Lovelylocks to blunder about to Pink with all the grace and sophistication of a four year old 'raving' (A.K.A. jumping up and down like a kite) to Barbie Girl.

She was worried, too, and that affected her balance even further.

And (here was the _really_ weird part) she was worried about Sora.

She barely knew the kid – he'd just been an alibi she'd used to get away from Olette's questioning gaze and comments about Riku. An excuse to hide away and have a good time, because this was _her_ party and she wanted to enjoy herself, **damnit**.

It was hard when she was pondering over the welfare of a collapsed boy in a semi-demi coma – barely even friends, just like that song in Beauty and the Beast. And Sora did bend – his neck and back and legs, collapsing into a limp heap on the ground.

Sure, there were kids throwing up outside due to raiding her parent's drinks cupboard, but she felt no sympathy for them.

It was their own bloody fault for being so stupid in the first place – they deserved to rot out their insides with bile and heave their guts out onto the lawn.

But Sora – he hadn't gone up 'there', knocked on God's gates and asked for two left feet. He just couldn't dance – clean and simple, simple and clean. It wasn't his fault Rinoa had big feet, nor was it his fault he'd been unfortunate enough to stumble over them.

And now here he was – locked up in Naminé's room, dead to the world amongst her motley collection of teddies hung to the ceiling fan by their necks, posters of weird goth/mosher like bands and studded necklaces.

And who knew what Naminé would be doing to him?

That, more than anything, was the main reason Kairi's sense of rhythm and poise were completely out-of synch during that one track.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Kairi, it wasn't rabid twin sisters sporting black make-up and crazy clothes she should be worried about.

No no, quite the opposite – opposite gender, opposite goal in life, opposite everything, really. Riku from head to toe, no Naminé thrown into the mixture there. Apart from the stalker-ish thoughts on said blonde goth that drove him to forcing the stubborn window open and slipping into her humble abode.

Naminé's main goal in life might have been to get a banana milkshake, but Riku's main goal in life was to beat up whoever dared enter her room (he'd clobber himself last for being such a sneaky ex-boyfriend, to be sure) and then toss their limp, lifeless carcass out of the window.

By God, how Riku _adored_ that girl – in a total walk-around-the-world-for-you-my-love kind of way. _Obsessive_ kind of way. _Scary stalker_ sort of way.

So when the girl had dumped him last night over a matter of a memory lapse and a missed date (the sixth in a row, I might add) it had not sat too well with our silver-haired protagonist.

It wasn't that he'd tried to stand her up, leaving her in front of the cinema in the rain for two hours. He'd simply forgotten, being the typical bag of male hormones that he was.

Because, when it all comes down to it, Riku was a guy, stupid and forgetful as all guys go. Naminé was a girl, loyal and loving as they get. He was a boy. She was girl. Can I make it anymore obvious?

Naminé was a girl who was sick of being stood outside the designated dating spot for several hours straight. Eventually she'd trek home, all loveless and forlorn with smudged mascara running down her cheeks, and Kairi would make her a cup of hot chocolate and they'd sit and talk about how useless guys were – the only times they actually got on, in a sort of sister/sister-like relationship.

Riku had swung over by the local florist's straight after school, purchased a bunch of roses half-price (due to the fact they were wilting a bit, and Aerith had pretty much condemned them to the trashcan) and had marched up to his lady love's house, all set with the joys of spring and 101 apologies prepared in this head.

And then Kairi had slammed the door in his face.

She was sick_sick_**sick** of comforting her sister over and over, and hated the silver-boy with a passion. For, while it may not have seemed like it to the untrained eye, Kairi did love her sister. And it hurt, watching your own flesh and blood trail back home from a disastrous date with tears in her eyes, demanding to know what she'd done wrong.

Kairi hadn't been about to let him into the house in a hurry.

So here Riku was, in Naminé's room, feeling hurt and hormonal and just a tad pissed off. Mainly because another guy was in his ex-girlfriend's room – a girlfriend he'd had ever since eighth grade.

He kicked the sleeping figure roughly in the side, hoping to prompt a response.

"Wake up you _bastard_, and get the fuck outta my girlfriend's ro-"

Riku was promptly cut off, courtesy a butter yellow shoe stuck in his middle.

Sora hadn't been asleep at all – he'd recovered shortly after he'd been deposited in Naminé's room, and had witnessed the girl jump out of her window in her quest for junk food with partially closed eyes and feigned heavy breathing. He'd only taken a simple knock to the head – hard enough to render him unconscious for a few minutes, but not so that he'd be snoozling on the floor for hours.

"Oh! You're **dead**, you little _asshole_!" screamed Riku once the initial shock of having an over-large shoe plough into his middle had subsided.

Because, even though this tiny 'kid' – and he was tiny, a good four inches smaller than Riku – had large shoes, the taller had a large bouquet of roses in his advantage.

He was gonna be cut into ribbons before the night was out.

* * *

Naminé hummed, hands wedged deeply into her pockets, as she waited for the hapless guy a the guy at the counter (a newbie to the world of supermarkets – you could tell from the stupefied look on his face, the acne across his nose and the name-tag that read '_Hi! My name is Simon!_' stuck to his shirt. All the other employers of the corner shop had enough sense to remove their unbelievably stupid name-tags, in attempts to save the last few shreds of their dignity.) 

"So that's… Er… Thirty-nine eighty-six?" asked 'Simon', staring down at his till as if it were a Russian time-bomb he had to detonate in the space of six seconds.

"Strangely enough, I _don't_ think a milkshake and a pack of gum equals forty dollars," Naminé commented in a dry voice, rocking back and forth on the heels of her shoes.

The girl wasn't too hot on Maths – truth be told, when the teacher was droning on about hypotenuses and what you the girl could be found at the back of the class with the rest of the bottom set, head on book, snoring – but even she had to pity this guy and his lack of education.

C'mon – three dolls plus one-twenty wasn't exactly rocket science, was it?

Simon stared at her cool-as-a-cucumber face, as if begging her to stab him through the chest right then and there.

Naminé ignored his silent, telekinetic pleas, and stared up at the ceiling – this was going to take a while.

Who cared? She had time to kill.

It wasn't like little unconscious boy was going to get into any fights or anything.

_That_ was something she could count on.

* * *

**a.n: **so now you know why kairi hates riku, and vice versa. ah, so many mysteries being explained. next few chaptoids will clear up other issues. yayness :3

**Xx skitts xX**


	7. Chapter 7

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Chapter Seven_

* * *

"What did you do to Naminé?" queried Riku, driving Sora further and further back into the depths of aforementioned blonde goth-girl's humble abode. The brunet looked around anxiously as he attempted to side-step piles of CDs and assorted items of clothing that had been slung haphazardly on the floor, thus creating minor health hazards. It was like a game of minesweep – step on a mine or, in this case, a CD emblazoned with the grinning faces of the bubblegum pop band, _the Gullwings_, and break your neck. All the while attempting to flee from a crazy guy wielding a bunch of thorn-covered roses. It's not an easy task, I assure you, as there's a good possibility it will all end in tears and a funeral service. Much like Russian Roulette.

Now, you must remember that Sora had been in a coma-like state of unconsciousness for a good half hour, and he was not as his best. So waking up to find a murderous, silver-haired beast braying for your blood and tossing accusations willy-nilly was not exactly going to help matters. And to top it all off, Sora had only just found out Kairi had a sister that she'd been keeping pretty hush-hush all these years, and now he was being told he was going out with her when he hadn't even known she'd existed until ten minutes ago!

Talk about confusing – it's a sure-fire recipe for disaster, all set to explode when the pin is taken out or the stopper is uncorked in a frothy haze of loud noises and pain. To sum it all up, the whole situation was a complete and utter catastrophe.

"I didn't do _anything_ to Naminé! I swear I didn't! I _promise_!" Sora cried, nearly falling over backwards through an open window that Riku had used to enter the room.

"Ha! Like I'm going to believe that when you're in her bloody room! No wonder Kairi got all pissy with me at the door! She didn't want me in here 'cause I'd find _you_ and she didn't want a bloodbath on her hands. Well, I'm sorry, but Kairi isn't here to protect you and your scrawny hide now!"

And then a punch was directed at the poor boy, a punch that was destined to send Sora on a one-way trip to meet his makers and see stars all at the same time.

It would've done, if the boy hadn't ducked at the last moment, obviously sensing something like that would happen. He'd hardly exactly been expecting Riku to offer him a box of chocolates, thump him on the back and say 'good one, mate', at any rate.

"You stupid little motherfu-"

Riku's insult was cut in two courtesy of a neat little jab aimed at the general vicinity of his face, his nose seeming to _explode_ with red goo once the fist made contact.

Sora looked down at his hand in alarm, wondering how the hell he'd managed to deal damage to foe about a head taller than him with his cooked spaghetti arms and general lack of upper body strength. It must've been stress and worry combined to create a sudden burst of power and adrenaline, like a shot of extra-strong coffee.

"YOU STUPID MOTHERFUCKER!" Riku roared, finally managing to finish off his previous insult, but with a lot more roaring and screaming and flailing of the fists, feet and that nifty little bouquet of roses.

The brunet ducked a particularly violent swing that probably could've cut through metal, tripping over a pile of _One-Winged Angel_ albums in the process. The CDs scattered across the floor creating an obstacle course.

Sora retreated to the safety of the bed, Riku attempted to follow but found his foot caught amongst an extensive collection of hairspray and hairstuffs, most of them claiming to '_revitalise red hair to the extreme_'. They were obviously all Kairi's, and Sora couldn't help but embrace a sudden warm rush of love for the red-head who cared a tad too much about the very same red-coloured head. She'd managed to save him yet again. Indirectly, of course.

The boy decided to take advantage of Riku's dilemma, and launched himself towards the teen like a torpedo.

The collision seemed to play in slow motion, just like in one of those bad action films with stunt doubles that look nothing like the actual actors and '_it's raining men_' playing in the background.

There were looks of desperation and looks of fierce determination, as Riku attempted to raise his battered, broken and bashed-about bouquet as if it might double up as a shield as well as an effective clubbing weapon and a gift to give to your lady love.

Sora smashed into the boy with force, power, agility and 'extra might', the two bodies flying through the air to land with a crash into the wardrobe. The roses were lying atop of Sora's face, his arms covered with scratches, head starting develop a nice, bluey-purply bruise.

Riku himself was faring no better, what with his swollen up nose that was still bleeding profusely, an arm bent back at an arkward angle and a one-hundred pound Sora lying on his lap, crushing many of his vital organs.

"Ow…" moaned both boys almost in unison, Riku attempting to disentangle himself from the younger.

Of course, no such fight of that magnitude that results in two teenage boys squished under each other and angled at impossible positions by a wardrobe can go unnoticed for too long, especially when such a fight breaks out at the home of the most popular girl in school who just so happens to be throwing a wild par-tay of sixty plus kids downstairs.

As the muffled shouts and screams and bangs that accompanied the fight started to worm its way down through the floorboards and incorporate itself into the techno songs downstairs kids stopped dancing and started questioning.

A few were huddled up into corners discussing Kairi's weird house in low tones, primping out their stories and ballooning them into grotesquely overweight, gossipy sagas about mad relatives in the attic.

Hayner, Pence and Olette (the girl who owned the killer converse that Sora had tripped over) were looking up at the ceiling worridly, as if the whole thing might fall down and cover the room in dust, plaster and assorted pieces of furniture.

When the track came to a close and the noise upstairs continued during the silence, punctuated by whispering teens wondering what was going on, Kairi decided she had to take action.

She sent home all the teens with profound apologies, and then marched straight up three flights of stairs (that was partly why she was so worried – something so loud it could be heard through three floors didn't herald good news) and entered Naminé's room, which just so happened to be the room the noises were coming from.

And then a horrible revelation hit Kairi: what if it wasn't just Naminé dancing (nay – _galumphing_) along to one of her (loud) gothy heavy metal songs like she'd first suspected, but something more sinister?

Something involving Sora?

And maybe knifes and blood and pain and god knows what else?

She was like a _hurricane_ of red hair and red lipstick and all-out panicky pandemonium as she flew into her sister's (and hers, for the time being) bedroom, looking about wildly for her blonde twin.

However, there was no twin.

There was Sora.

On the floor.

And Naminé's ex-boyfriend, towering over him, looking smug.

The expression of triumph quickly lifted when his aqua eyes met Kairi's dark blue, however, the twisted smile scrubbing off pretty sharpish thanks to the swift slap the fiery red-head aimed at _his_ head, the cheeks stinging, burning into a colour known as rosy apple red.

"You've _hurt_ him, you bastard, and he didn't even do anything to you! He was **unconscious**! And you're not even meant to _be here _anyway, you son of a bitch!" roared the girl, swinging her hand down for another slap. Her nails were manicured and painted lilac, and it'd sure as she was standing there **hurt** when she scraped them down his face. Maybe they'd even draw blood…

Kairi didn't have a morbid fascination with the stuff like Naminé, who oftentimes would watch live footage of liver transplants and blood transfusions on TV whilst curled up on the sofa cradling a bag of popcorn and a can of coke when nothing else good was on (sometimes with her weird, gothy, pierced, arsty friends from that lonerville looserland school of hers), but she wouldn't mind watching Riku stagger about with red rivulets coursing down his cheeks.

Riku managed to catch her oncoming hand, however, and diverted it away from his face by means of his 'manly' muscles.

"What do you _mean_, hurt him for no reason? If he's in my girlfriend's bedroom then I have a fucking **good** reason to beat him senseless – don't look at me like that, Kairi, he's _fine_. We're both fine, he just slammed into me and knocked himself up against a wardrobe. Stupid bugger."

"I _told_ you to keep away!" sobbed Kairi, hysterical, snatching her arm back from Riku and bending down in front of Sora. Yes, he was fine, she could tell that now – his eyelids were fluttering and he was attempting to help himself up and nurse a bruise the size of Bavaria stuck crudely to the side of his head, but that wasn't the point. He could've been hurt. Horribly hurt. It could've turned into one of those blood-soaked traumas live from the hospital in Hollow Bastion Naminé liked to watch with 'Larxene' and 'Saïx' and other such scary friends who's habits involved wearing eyeliner, swearing at fat people and listening to songs about people who wore eyeliner and swore at fat people. "I _told_ you! You've upset me and Naminé one time too many and now you go and hurt my _friend_-_" _

"Hey! I'm not the one so ashamed of my sister that I pretend she doesn't even exist! You don't care about her at all, Kai, you're just using it as an excuse to get rid of me! You're so fucking ashamed you go to a completely different school at the other end of the city in order to get away from her!"

"You don't understand **anything!!!** You don't know what it's like being a twin! When we were little everybody acted like we were one person, they never even bothered to tell us apart! Even the teachers! They just said '_oh, twin, would you mind handing out rulers for our English test? And would the other one pass out the paper?_'. We may have looked the same but we were **different** on the inside, but nobody paused to figure that out! Nobody! Nobody! We got so sick of it we changed completely – Nami grew her hair and I dyed mine! We tried to look as different as possible and act as different as possible so people would actually bother to get to know us! We went to separate schools so we could be treated as whole people, not just halves! Not just _twins_. We never told our friends about the other because we didn't want them to know in case the whole primary school thing happened again and we'd have to move and start afresh as separate people again just like last time! But despite all this I still _love_ Naminé, we're still sisters, and I'm just about sick of you barging around and making everything a misery! You think I'm _ashamed_ of my sister? I'm not ashamed! I'd have loved for us to stay together but, quite frankly, we couldn't! It would have driven us insane. It wouldn't have worked because when you're a twin you have no freedom. You have no personality. You have no _nothing_. We wanted our lives. This was the price we had to pay. Separation."

Riku stood there, flabbergasted at Kairi's explosion of words and phrases, watching as she tried to help Sora up.

"So now you know. And if you _dare_ annoy me or Naminé **_or_** Sora – who had nothing to do with this at all – then I'll kick your ass from here to Hollow Bastion general hosp-"

And then they were cut off, by means of gothy blonde girl tumbling rather ungraciously through the window, head first, bottle of banana milkshake cradled in one hand and a rather sheepish expression on her face.

"How long were you stuck to the drainpipe listening?" asked Kairi, raising an eyebrow.

Naminé attempted a devil-may-care smile, although the overall expression was ruined somewhat by the grimace of pain attempting to seep through her mask, as she dusted herself off and picked imaginary lint and dustbunnies of her clothes. "Oh… Um… Not too long? Ehehe…" she giggled nervously, hugging the drink close to her chest as if it were a child's cuddle blanket or a float tossed to a drowning non-swimmer at the deep end of the pool. "If you don't mind I'll go n-"

"No," Kairi smiled a sweet little smile. "You may be my sister and I may love you, but that doesn't mean I can't be really, _really_, really pissed off at you 'cause you did a crap job keeping my guest safe **and** you didn't put your mad ex on a lead."

"I… Er… Oops?"

Sora's head hurt an _awful_, **_awful_** lot, and he knew it wasn't all down to banging it on the wardrobe. It was like trying to follow the plot of a soap opera.

In fact, he was finding it hard trying to separate Kairi's life _from_ a soap opera at that exact moment of time.

* * *

"Look, Sora…" Kairi sighed, seated on one of her parent's chic, expensive sofas in their chic, expensive living room. The sigh was partly due to fatigue (cleaning up after a wild raving party, putting the furniture back in place, wiping sick stains off the aspidistras in the front garden, placing all bottles of beer back into the correct cupboards and then locking your sister and her crazy ex-boyfriend in the bathroom and refusing to let them out until they'd sorted the whole sordid relationship out can do that to you) and partly due to shame. Shame at her family affairs and awful party and managing to drag Sora down into it.

"I'm really sorry. You came here to have a good time, and instead you ended up getting knocked out and beaten up and a crazy guy with a bunch of roses. I guess it could've have been much 'fun'," Kairi sighed again, looking at the brunet who seemed tremendously at ease on her sofa as if he'd spent his whole life with a packet of chips slobbing out in front of a TV screen.

"No. It doesn't matter, Kai. I don't like parties anyway. This was a lot more interesting," Sora laughed as he attempted to reassure her, smile spread out across his face about a mile wide.

And it was all worth it (even the scary being-attacked-by-psycho-with-bunch-of-flowers bit) because here he was now, seated next to the crush of his life on a sofa. And sofas are grand, are sofas – he'd grown up on a sofa and it was where he felt most at home.

"Thanks," giggled Kairi. "I'm glad. And I'm glad I got to know you, Sora. I always saw you at school hanging around with Selph and the other loud girl. And you sat next to me in Chem. And… Well… You looked so nice, what with your smile. That's why I remembered you. You were always smiling. And I wanted to talk to you, I really did, but I was _scared_. I was worried you wouldn't like me. A lot of people don't."

"That's not _true_, Kairi! You're the most popular girl in the whole of Oblivion High! Everyone's falling about your feet. They are, to coin a popular phrase, your bitches! They all _love_ you."

"No they don't… There are a lot of people who don't. All the girls who bitch about me behind my back and spray nasty things on the walls of the toilets. I've read them. I know what they say. They think I'm a _whore_."

"But you're not!"

"Well, I didn't want to talk to you because I was worried you'd think so too. No people write nasty things about you on toilet walls. Everyone loves _you_, Sora, even if they don't know you. Your smile and your jokes… You're so happy. People like being happy. Even scary gothic people like Naminé."

"Well, that's funny. 'Cause I always liked you, too, even though I didn't know you. And it wasn't just because of your skirts or hair or anything like that. It was because, beneath all the makeup and parties, you seemed like a nice girl. A really nice girl. And you _are_, Kai."

"Thanks…" Kairi smiled softly, leaning in closer to the brunet. "You know… It's getting kind of late… Do you want to go home now? I mean, you don't have too… You can stay over if you'd rather, 'cause it's getting pretty dark out and you might not want to walk home. My parents won't mind, they'll be away all weekend. And you can sleep on the couch."

"You know what? That sounds nice," Sora spoke softly, moving his face towards to meet Kairi's, brushing his lips with her strawberry-flavoured ones.

It was just like how he'd imagined it only so much better. You can't wrap your arms around a flitting fairytale or pull an imaginary ghost-of-a-person up against your chest and neither can you smell its fruity shampoo or taste its lip gloss. You can't cradle fantasies in your arms or run your fingers through a dream's hair. But Kairi wasn't a dream. Not _this_ Kairi, not _this_ time.

This wasn't a daydream. It was the real girl behind the skirts and the dress and the boys and the parties, the one Sora had managed to see all this time, concealed behind the badass attitude and make-up.

And it was much better than he could ever of thought of.

It was just like _fireworks_.

* * *

"Do you think they're going to let us out?" queried Riku for the thirtieth time after explaining to Naminé that he was **not** going out with Lulu Tiso and he never had been and **yes**, he really _had_ been helping her with Biology studies after school not because she looked totally hot in her dress comprised of belts, but because she was an old friend and her mother made some mean strawberry tiramisu.

"No," sighed the blonde in melancholy tones, staring up through the glossy opaque bathroom window like a lubberly young maiden languishing in a tall tower, couting off the days on her calendar until prince charming would ride along on his snowy white horse and whisk her away. The whole regal effect was spoilt somewhat by the toilet in the background that smelt strongly of something nobody wanted to identify but what the heck. She was _trying_. "They're going to keep us in here until we turn into skeletons and feed us tuna mayonnaise through the gap at the bottom of the door."

"We'll go _crazy._ I could turn into a cannibal and try to eat you, mistaking you for a piece of tiramisu! Oh, woe is me!"

Naminé grinned, leaning against the bathroom wall with her fingers linked behind her back.

"Hey, Riku. I'm sorry I overreated over the whole Lulu thing. It's just that all the boys like her at my school, and she's also got those…" Here she made round motions at the front of her chest, seeming to indicate 'balloons'. "And… Yeah… When I saw you two together I didn't know what to think. I'm just paranoid, I guess. And sorry…"

"Well, I'm sorry too. I acted like a jackass."

"You could make it up to me now…" Naminé trailed off, voice hopeful.

"What? In your _bathroom_?"

"Like I give a damn."

* * *

And they all lived happily ever after.

* * *

**a.n:** ahh! But tis not all over yet! Find out what happened to Yuffie, Selphie, Axel & Roxas in the epilogue xP. Annndd sorry for the long time it took to update! I hope this chappie makes up fer it/\/\


	8. Epilogue

**Warning: Health Hazard**

_Epilogue_

* * *

Axel yawned, acidic green eyes opening ever so slowly, as if preparing himself to face some horrible, unknown evil that lurked just beyond his self conscious.

He couldn't really remember what had happened last night; all he knew was that he'd gone to a party, hooked up with a cute girl and gotten drunk. Very drunk. Not drunk like Marluxia and Demyx, who'd ended up hurling their guts up in some artistically placed aspidistras outside Kairi's stucco mansion (she'd be pissed when she found all the beer cans and sticky goop in her terracotta plant pots in the morning), but drunk enough. Drunk enough to forget everything that had happened after escorting the cute girls to… A nightclub, perhaps? It seemed like as good a place as any that a drunk Axel would take a fit chick to.

There had been dancing, and colourful lights… Shouting and lots of noise. And a bar. There had to have been a bar. But even as he tried to remember, the details slowly slipped away in a blurry haze, colours slowly running like a canvas left out in the rain. Colours and details and events started to mix together into an unintelligible gloop of pounding techno music, green bottles and gyrating bodies. He couldn't remember a thing.

He didn't even know who the cute girl he'd been out with _was_. Which sucked just a little bit, because his last girlfriend had dumped him and it would be nice to remember who he'd had such a good time with last night. The way Axel saw it, if he'd gotten drunk enough to suffer from amnesia and a complete memory lapse he'd had a good time, no doubt about it.

Well, he reasoned with himself, peeling his body off the grimy, crumb-strewn beige carpet of his living room (he figured he'd been too wrecked to collapse into his own bed after he got home last night, making him wonder even more on just what he'd been doing. Hopefully nothing illegal – he'd already had a caution for playing with firecrackers in the street).

He'd been with Roxas the whole time. He could not remember leaving the younger blond's company for the entire duration of last night. Which wasn't saying much, as he could barely remember a thing anyway.

Surely nothing _too_ bad could have happened. Roxas was a sensible one, who had tutted at Demyx and Marluxia throughout most of the party when they'd stationed themselves at the drinks cabinet in the kitchen and refused to budge only when they needed to run outside to be sick. Roxas would've stopped any harm that might have befallen him in his drunken stupor, and taken him back home when he was almost ready to pass out. Roxas was a good kid; he didn't even _get_ drunk. He'd always watched out for Axel and made sure he never did anything rash or stupid that he might regret later. Why would he stop now?

Axel made his way to the kitchen, splashing cold water from the sink onto his pasty white face. He couldn't help but notice his fingers were shaking, leading him to wonder just _how_ wasted he'd gotten last night all over again. It was a good thing his parents had been away that night, or they'd be **really** pissed off about the mess in the house and the state of their only child.

Feeling slightly more awake once the icky, unattractive, yellow sleepy gunk had gone from his eyes and into the sinkhole in a cascade of cool water, he moved towards the fridge, ready to scourge the shelves for anything that could be passed off a nutritious breakfast. He was hungry, as he was a growing boy who needed substance to keep running. He ate an awful lot, despite the numerous 'anorexic' remarks people bestowed upon him at school due to his flat stomach and visible ribs.

And then he stopped, staring in horror at the gleaming white door of the fridge. His trembling fingers reached up and, with a deft movement, pulled the single photograph and sheet of white paper from the door with much snapping of sellotape and pounding of his heart.

He began to read the note.

_Dear Axel,_

_Me and Yuffie had a great time last night! You took us to a really great nightclub! Atlantica. Just in case you forgot which one. I loved all the dancing, and I even took a picture of you and Roxas. You know, for a keepsake. I made loads of copies, too, just in case anybody else wanted one. All the yaoi fangirls at school who subscribe to me'n Yuff's pictures of hawt couples won't be disappointed, let me tell you. You two were really enjoying yourselves, you know._

_Not that me and Yuffie had anything to do with it. Spiking your drinks, I mean. Hehehehe. Well, we didn't _that _much. We only paid the bartender to do it. He was desperate for extra munny. Anyway, I think it was all worth it, and all those fangirls will agree with me. That picture is like solid gold, you know. _

Axel stared at the photo in horror, eyes wide, heart pounding so hard it was in danger of bursting out of his ribcage and onto the black'n'white chequered floor in a show a gunge and blood.

He'd been out with **Selphie and Yuffie**. The two girls who were responsible for the downfall of Demyx and Zexion after conning them into a double date, spiking their drinks and then handing out photos of them in some rather compromising positions! They had their own FANGIRL CLUB, for crying out loud! Half of the school subscribed to their yaoi program, a dollar per picture for each desperate, shonen-ai loving girl. Yeah, at the time Axel had thought it was rather funny, what with Demyx being set upon daily by fangirls asking him to kiss Zexion some more (they'd PAY him, and probably eat their own legs too if they thought it would help) but it wasn't now it was happening to him…

There he was in the photo, lips pressed against his best friend's, looking ever so much like a soppy happy couple that it hurt. His eyes were BLEEDING, goddamnit it!

He flipped the photo over, noticing yet another chirpy little message scrawled on the back with a blue biro. It was written in cursive, all the dots on the 'i's replaced with hearts and over-large, looping swirls on the bottoms of the 'y's. Selphie's trademark handwriting, just like the prose on the letter, that was also adorned with hearts and stars and other girlie girlie things.

_Hope you thank us later for saving your love life! You can live in denial no longer!_

_--Selphie & Yuffie  
Proud spreaders & suppliers of yummy yaoi goodness since 2005_

Axel dropped the photo like it was red-hot, mouth frozen in a silent scream of horror.

His life was officially **over**.

* * *

**a.n:** and thus, this story comes to a close. i hope you liked eet :3 please r + r!

**skitts x x x**


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